Clawed Butler
by im just here for hot butlers
Summary: Claude has been ordered to enter into a second contract by his master, and Claude is happy to oblige when he finds a worthy soul summoning him for vengeance. Taken with his new master's fire and his first master's rising flame, Claude is preparing both of his young morsels for one hell of a feast. ClaudexOC with some AloisxOC
1. Ensnared

_A spider's web, wet with morning dew—like a veil that covers your true face._

"Hoheo Taralna, Rondero Tarel."

Nothing. Nothing but the cold air biting at bare, bloodied skin. Nothing but the frost melting around blackened feet. Nothing but a frail girl, standing alone looking like a fool, believing in child's tales. _Nothing._

"Hoheo Taralna, Rondero Tarel!"

Echoes of an unheard cry of despair met her ears. _Come. You have to._ She tore the web away from her face, letting it fall to the pitiless earth. As her eyes followed the discarded veil, she noticed a mist clouding around her ankles only to be followed by . . .

 _Snow?_ She looked up to see trees enfolding around her, mocking her in her desolation; only now she could feel the fallen slivers of remains as they settled upon her face, soft and familiar. _Ash._

Suddenly, the girl was pulled into the air by an unseen force, flying backwards in a frenzy until her widened eyes could no longer make out her surroundings. There was no time to scream as everything went to black and she was stopped gently, left bound to a sticky prison—a spider's web large enough to engulf the world. Or so it seemed to her.

Her panicked eyes darted about, but her sight fell to only the darkness surrounding her. Only when she made a move to rotate her head did she realize her hair was stuck firmly to the web, restricting the rotating motion. All of a sudden, the milky white web began to stir from above. Her breath quickened and her heart began to beat against her ribs—she knew what was coming. It was a spider, no doubt. And a web this big only gave the impression that this creature was not simply a nuisance one could easily step on without further conflict. No, this creature was large enough to make tremors surge throughout the in the web, growing more intense as the seconds ticked by.

She jerked her arms and legs forward, but it resulted in burning agony as the threads of the web began to tear at her skin. She growled in pain, then remained still as the web started to sink backwards from the weight of the mighty fiend above. Spiders were revolting, disturbing, intruding, and terrifying. Now she was faced with this—a great eight-legged figure approaching her from above. Her shallow, rapid breaths would allow her no room to cry for help as the monster approached, peering down at her with four distinct glowing eyes. She squeezed her tear-filled eyes shut with all of her might, so as to not see the hideous being while it tore her apart.

"What is your wish?" the beast grumbled, vibrating the web and echoing throughout the endless stretch of darkness.

"M-my . . . wish?" she stuttered between heaving breaths. Her eyes slowly opened, and she dared to look at the spider before her. It leaned its large head down in front of her face, eyeing her with what seemed to be great interest.

"You called on me without a wish? Perhaps there is someone you wish to get even with?" The spider's eyes closed and its head began to morph. It moved to wrap its two front legs around her, coming in close. The head changed—strange figures began to swirl about on the spider's face until it revealed a rather handsome yellow-eyed man. She began to calm, sensing what she perceived to be a protective aura from the beast. No, it was no normal spider. It would not harm her. She could assume it wanted more than just her life.

"Are you a genie? Is this some sort of trick?"

"I am a demon," it announced without malice, indifferent, as if it was unaware of the weight of its confession. "And you have summoned me. Now, tell me your wish and I shall form a contract with you."

"I-I don't. . ."

"As I thought."

The web dissipated, and she was once again left standing under a full moon, all but masked by trees now adorned with webs and spider-like branches.

"You may call on me again when you have your wish." Its voice reverberated throughout the woods, dissipating more into the distance with every word.

"Wait! Don't go! I have a wish!" She reached up to the branches desperately with a bloody, dirt-caked hand, and was soothed by the sound of a smooth, rumbling voice.

"Tell me."

"I do want to get even. I do want revenge. And I want you to help me."

"Is this truly what you want? You will forfeit your soul to me in favor, and there is no turning back."

The girl grit her teeth and balled her fists as she looked up to the branches, tears of fury blinding her eyes. She remembered the look on her mother's face when she would sing lullabies, and slowly that warm expression was replaced in her mind with tear-stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a crimson pool flowing from those once smiling lips. _No!_ _They will not escape my grasp again. I will have my revenge. Mother, Father, Brother—I will not fail you once more. I will let them know the suffering you experienced this night. Even if that is what it takes . . ._

"I want this!" she screamed, "I want you!"

* * *

 _ **In the Morning**_

Claude gripped at the curtains, pulling them back to filter a bright light into the room.

"Master, it is time for you to wake."

Lelia turned over, facing away from the light as she groaned in displeasure. Claude emitted a small sigh and pushed his spectacles up to rest higher on the narrow bridge of his nose.

"This morning's tea is Her Majesty's Blend from Ridgways. Most excellent." The butler picked up a kettle and teacup from the vanity set against the wall of Lelia's room and proceeded to pour her a cup.

"Mmm, tea?" Lelia grabbed her blankets and scooted into a sitting position on her bed, stretching her arms and legs before rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

"Yes, my Lady. Just like every morning." Claude knew that the only way to wake his stubborn mistress was to announce the morning's tea. There was no other way she would move a muscle, other than to bury herself deeper into the blankets and tell him to get lost. She did love his tea; he always made it perfectly to her specifications. Claude couldn't deny he also enjoyed something to keep her mouth busy as he began to dress her. How she did love to find any excuse to say something ungrateful to him, no matter how perfectly he tried to maneuver his actions to please her. It wasn't easy keeping up his stoic demeanor when she belittled him in such a way—he had to muster up great control to keep himself from indulging further into her anger in the heat of the moment.

She slid to the side of her bed, still covering herself with blankets, and gladly took the cup from her butler's gloved hand. She emitted a pleased sound and nodded in approval after taking a drink. "Always 'most excellent'," she mocked, giving him a smirk. He made an effort not to look at her expression, as it was always condescending in nature—the face of a harsh noble. It almost dared him to step out of line. Instead, he went to reach for her clothes for the day.

"Claude." She said sternly, handing him a piece of brown cloth from her nightstand. He understood straightaway.

"Apologies, my Lady." He removed his spectacles and folded them, placing them in his breast pocket. He then delicately took the cloth from her hand and wrapped it around his head as a blindfold to shield his eyes from Lelia's state of undress. She stood from her bed, abandoning the blankets and waiting as Claude began to dress her. It was all but a simple task to ready her for the morning. One wrong move and she would immediately slap his hand away. She did a lot of slapping, but there was nothing for it. The master calls the shots—or in this case, the back-hand.

"Be more careful!" she cried, forcing his hands away in one sweep of her own.

"It would be much easier to mind myself if I could see," he stated calmly. She huffed at his assertion and removed the blindfold from his eyes. Taking his chin in her hand, she pulled him in close and pierced her emerald eyes right into his golden ones. Oh, how she hated his expressionless gaze, never giving her a bit of satisfaction. She wanted to see him angry, scared, upset, _anything at all._ But he never changed his expression, and his monotone voice made him seem incredibly bored of her. Lelia knew one thing: she would not stand around and let him make her feel so incredibly inferior. Her nails dug into the flesh on her butler's cheeks as she gave her orders, causing his eyes to flash.

"You will not speak back to me in such a way," she murmured sternly, releasing her grasp. "Now, _see to it._ "

She took a sip of tea and sat it by her bedside table, then watched as Claude reapplied his glasses and began to dress her. She glowered at his indifferent face, the way he never smiled or looked remotely interested. He didn't seem to be moved at all by seeing her undressed either. _Perhaps demons do not desire humans in any way more than as a snack. Any other man would feel faint. Is there absolutely nothing that phases this vile beast?_

If Claude didn't seem interested in seeing her like this, then what on earth could he possibly be interested in? She was, after all, an elegant beauty. Her strawberry blonde hair fell down her back in many extravagant curls and her bangs adorned her face as if it was a sin to move an inch out of place. Her eyes were a deep green, flaked with specks of gold around the pupil. Her face was heart shaped, and her skin was a beautiful tone of ivory. Her waist was fairly slim and her lips were always soft. Even though her top lip was slightly bigger than the bottom, it worked for her. She was the self-proclaimed definition of beauty and grace.

This beauty, however, never seemed to reach deeper than the surface of her fair skin. She was arrogant, ill-tempered, smart-mouthed, and if Claude had been a human, he would go as far as to say she was frightening. _No,_ he thought to himself, _she is a furnace of a soul. Burning brighter with each passing hour. She acts as a storm of flame, scorching everything in her path—and how I love it when she burns me._

The sound of snapping fingers woke Claude from his thoughts. Lelia had been clothed in a black dress, complete with light blue trim around the neckline and shoulders. An intricate design at the bottom of the dress appeared to be a crocheted, light blue spider's web twisting around the circumference. She lifted her skirts as to not trip over them on the way to her vanity. Claude pulled out a chair for her and she sat, holding out her right hand expectantly.

Claude opened a small box on the vanity's countertop and pulled out a ring. He was gentle to place his palm underneath hers for support as he slid the ring onto her ring finger. It was a rather breath-taking adornment—a white gold ring, chiseled at the surface to depict a web. At the top was a finely crafted spider, the head and legs attached to a large green diamond that acted as the spider's abdomen. The face of the spider was adorned with four miniscule black diamonds, presenting themselves as the arachnid's eyes. The legs were molded around the ring, so as to not take away from the web on which they appeared to stand. The eight, thin legs bowed out and bent down in a fine diamond shape. The inner surface of the ring also bore a curious inscription that Lelia had never took notice of since the first day Claude placed it upon her finger.

Her eyes hovered over the ring and she allowed a small, dainty chuckle to escape her lips. "Isn't it amusing, Claude?"

"My Lady?" he enquired, never wavering in the slightest.

"It's just . . . You came to me as a spider, and look." She flashed her hand near his face with that daring smirk she always wore. "It seems you're now wrapped around my finger."

"I believe it is your finger that is caught in my web," he retorted with a slow blink. He could see her whip her head around, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing with the abrupt movement. Claude sensed that all traces of amusement vanished within her. _Yes, my Diamond. Let me feel your flame._

 _Smack!_

Claude was left with his head turned slightly at the force of her strike, his spectacles nearly dropping from his head. He allowed his eyes to flash a bright crimson for a moment, his pupils turning to devilish slits. He forced back the smile that threatened to creep upon his pale lips. No, he couldn't let her see the pleasure that spread across his face at her ouburst. That would ruin the game—rile her up and watch her explode.

"Do you never think before you speak? I'll have your head next time," she growled. Claude only closed his eyes and bowed apologetically.

 _You have nothing without me,_ he thought. _You were nothing without me. Cheap and tasteless._ He pushed and straightened his glasses upon the bridge of his nose, letting his hand linger to cover his expression. An image of her reaching out to him in nothing but torn rags, begging for his help crossed his mind. He couldn't resist allowing a sinister grin to cross his pale lips. _You were a most pitiable sight, but now I hunger more and more with every spark I ignite inside of you. Just like a slaughtered dove being seasoned for the infernal meal._

The demon stood once more to attend to his master's appearance, bringing her strawberry locks up into a bun fit for royalty. He snapped pins to hold down the stray hairs that attempted to make Lelia look any less than perfect, and then opened up the toilet chest to retrieve her cosmetics. Claude reached first for the small, round container of pearl powder. He bent, lowering himself slightly above eye-level with his youthful master, and she closed her eyes. He gingerly placed a gloved hand on her chin and tilted her face up, dabbing her nose and under her eyes with the powder. Lelia didn't have many freckles, but those that she did have, she would not leave her quarters without covering first.

Once Claude was done administering the powdery makeup, he set it down and picked up a smaller container. He removed a glove, setting it aside on the dressing table before opening the container. Lelia's eyes opened once the powder settled and she watched as her butler dipped a black-nailed digit into the small container. Once again, he held her chin in place as he administered the next cosmetic. Lelia parted her lips as she felt the cool, waxy balm being applied by Claude's finger, providing a bit of fleshly warmth through the gel as he evened it out on each lip. She gazed up at him as he did so, wondering what could be going through his demonic mind as he studied her lips with a blank expression. He seemed distant and unresponsive, completely and totally unaffected by her beauty. If she was honest, it bothered her. She could have any man she wanted. Not like she wanted _him_ , a lowly butler, but she was still baffled. Shouldn't demons indulge in impropriety? Shouldn't they be drawn to misbehavior? But not Claude. No, he was a mystery. However, there was a way she could try to uncover him.

Claude eyed his master's lips and restrained his eyes from flashing with hunger. _Those lips, smooth and delicate like the petals of a fine rose; her tongue the harsh thorns that pierce into my skin without remorse._ He kept himself from shivering in delight, letting his finger slip away from her bottom lip with hesitancy. He noticed her watching his face intently. _A verdant gaze like two poised daggers, ready to drag along my flesh and rip into my veins._ Lelia's eyes narrowed into his.

"Claude," she started, "do you desire me?"

"Yes, Mistress. More than anything. You have a truly fine soul," he replied, his hunger not evident in his voice.

Lelia frowned, her lips shimmering against the sunlight seeping through her window.

"I know that, demon. I wasn't referring to my soul."

Claude let his golden eyes close before straightening himself out and retrieving his glove from the dressing table. Lelia stood, looking up at the taller with demanding eyes. He knew better than to deny his master answers, so he forced his gaze into hers with such intensity that Lelia almost backed down.

"I would never disgrace my Mistress in such a way," he murmured. "You are fit for the highest of nobles, not a lowly butler. What an insult it would be if I held that desire for my master."

Lelia, for the first time since the day she acquired Claude, was stunned into silence. On one hand, he was right. A butler had no right to feel such things toward a noblewoman. On the other hand, he didn't answer the question. If it was a yes, it would be an insult to her heritage. If it was a no, it would be an affront to her beauty. Lelia saw no other alternative, and she immediately regretted the question.

"Nevermind. Your kind are detestable either way," she decided. "It was foolish of me to ask such a thing from the likes of you."

With that, Lelia pushed Claude aside and strode out the door. Claude stumbled as he watched her leave, his tongue darting out of his mouth to pass over his top lip. _A gait encompassing power and control. . . such unwavering confidence. The nobility and tyranny of one who has subjugated others all her life by right of birth._ He allowed a crooked smile to gracelessly take refuge upon his lips.

 _Yes, my Diamond . . . I will make one_ _ **hell**_ _of a feast out of you._


	2. Burn, Baby, Burn

_The_ _night_ _before_

"I do hope they come out well!" A young woman and her husband strolled out of a small photography shop in downtown London, chipper and excited for their first photograph together.

"Of course they will! You are in them, after all. It won't be anything less than perfect with you as the subject!" the man chirped, straightening his bowtie. The woman blushed, staring starry-eyed at her newlywed husband. She smiled brightly and took his arm in hers, leaning her head on his shoulder as they made their way home.

"Wait, do you smell that?" The woman sniffed the air around her and stopped in her place on the sidewalk. The man stopped as well, looking back at her with mild concern.

"I'm sure it's just the air, it—" The man cut his sentence short as sparks began to fly around her, followed by a rapid combustion.

"Ellen!" the man cried. Ellen's bloodcurdling screams filled the night as she felt the fire ripping mercilessly through layers of clothes and into her flesh. Pedestrians were gathering around the horrific scene, shocked to silence as they watched the woman burn.

"Ellen!" he cried again, jerking his coat off in panic and attempting to snuff out the fire with the brown garment. He swung it left and right, the fire following his every move until it engulfed the coat as well. It was hopeless. He dropped what was left of the coat, as the fire swallowed up everything it touched more rapidly than any fire he'd ever seen before.

The woman's screams began to ebb, and soon they were no more than groans of agony.

"Ellen no! No!" The woman turned her ashen face up to her husband, mustering every ounce of her strength to reach out to him. Despair covered his features as he threw both of his hands into the fire to grab hers—only it was nothing but glittering ashes slipping through his fingers as he pulled away. He ignored the burn as it ate away at the flesh on his palms, the panic numbed every other sense.

Wide-eyed, he stared down at the ashes. "No!" He fell to his knees In front of her, but the fire was dissipating and he could see she was little more than a charred corpse of who she used to be. He reached to touch her blackened face in one last caress, but she crumbled to the ground as soon as the tip of his finger reached her cheek—gone.

 _In the Afternoon_

 _Tap tap._

"Enter."

Claude opened the door and stepped through into Lelia's study, carrying a silver platter and a teacup. He closed the door behind him and began walking in swift, graceful strides to Lelia's desk. He placed the cup down on a free area of her desk, followed by a plate he picked up from the platter.

"This afternoon, I have prepared Morning Glory Scones with a fresh spice glaze and—"

"Claude," Lelia murmured, staring at the dish before her. It was an average scone, she could see, but she couldn't help but notice the head of a Morning Glory flower placed as a garnish on the side of the dish.

"Yes, Master?"

"This flower." She plucked it up off of the plate and placed it gently in her palm, displaying it to her black-clad butler. With his index finger, he pushed his glasses up and looked down at the specimen in his master's petite hand. "Claude, why is this here?"

"I apologize if it has caused—"

"No. No, I . . . I just have never seen it grown anywhere except—" Lelia stopped her sentence short, wondering why she would be so concerned over something as trivial as a flower. She let the Morning Glory fall from her hands and focused her gaze instead on the paperwork cluttering her desk. "It isn't important. Just. . . keep it out of my sight."

"Very well, my Lady." Claude tucked the flower into his pocket, having snatched it up before it could hit the floor. _A trigger. I can't let this carelessness happen again._

"After tea, I regret to inform you that you have business to attend to." Lelia breathed out a sigh before taking a sip of the unnamed tea. Earl Grey, perhaps?

Claude stood with a sealed envelope in his hand to which Lelia beckoned with the wag of a finger. The butler took it upon himself to break the seal and remove the letter before he handed it to his master. She grabbed the letter from his gloved hand and scanned it with blatant disregard.

"Well, look here. You managed to do something right," Lelia voiced. Claude's eyebrow raised and he stared down at his master. "That pudgy madwoman is burning people alive just as planned. And do you know what that means?" Lelia questioned her butler, a dangerous smirk playing on her pale pink lips.

"The Dog has been sent to fetch."

"Precisely." Lelia giggled with delight. The thought of felling the Queen's infamous Guard Dog gave the girl a pleasant chill. She had heard of many failed assassination attempts on the villainous noble, yet believed none of them. He was a mere child; there was no way he could have done away with all of his enemies alone, and she was determined to take his undue title away from him. She had, after all, been hired by Queen Victoria to hunt him down and eliminate him. Apparently, he could no longer be trusted as the Queen's right hand in the underworld—no. That title would belong to Lelia, was _promised_ to her with the death of Earl Phantomhive. And she swore she would succeed. With Claude by her side, there was no contest.

Two days before, her ever so devious butler had sought out a frail soul—one corrupted with her desire for burning passion. She was all too easy to manipulate with a false promise, and Claude took full advantage of it. If she did this one thing for him, he promised men would fall at her feet and lavish her in flaming hot passion. Lelia would have been lying if she said she wasn't immensely pleased with Claude as she had watched every move he made while seducing the woman into believing his mendacious tongue. He gave the woman an explosive powder laced with supernatural elements that devoured a soul with a single spark, and she had done with it exactly as Claude instructed.

The Queen knew that once she sent out her distress signal to her Guard Dog, he would immediately act. The Spider was then to be sent after the Dog and do away with him for undisclosed criminal acts. Lelia didn't care why Queen Victoria wanted Earl Phantomhive's life. All she cared about was the publicity of power, and the position at the Queen's side meant she was one step closer to finding her revenge.

"One more thing, Mistress," Claude added, jerking Lelia out of her vengeful daydream.

"What is it?"

"Your betrothed will be attending tonight's dinner. I do hope you find him to your satisfaction," Claude said. His feigned nonchalance covered his amusement as Lelia grew stiff, mouth agape with shock.

"My _**WHAT?!**_ "

* * *

Claude went about setting the grand table in the dining hall, careful to align each plate perfectly with the gilded chair in front of it. The golden flatware was placed in appropriate positions on either side of the plate, followed by the drinking glasses. The butler decorated the dining table with ornate candelabra and vases containing freshly clipped roses. He evened out the honey-colored tablecloth before deciding his work was finished, then he made his way to his master's study once more.

Seconds after he knocked, Lelia threw open the door. She regarded Claude with revulsion upon seeing him, turning her head away and walking toward the dining hall. She had not asked for a fiancée, yet Claude insisted she meet him before calling it off without second thought. This had earned him a rather hard punch in the ribs, but Claude knew his first orders could not simply be denied.

Claude followed his Lady to the dining hall and pulled out her chair. She sat with a huff as Claude pushed the seat back toward the table. Three plum-haired men stood in the corner of the room, eyes watching intently. They each gave each other apprehensive glances, but said nothing.

"He will be here any moment. Please, my Lady, stay here while I retrieve him," the butler insisted before bowing and exiting the room.

"No worries, demon. I wouldn't follow you anywhere," Lelia replied with venom. She propped her elbows on the table and supported her head in her hands. She would usually never act with such impropriety, but today had been a stressful day full of paperwork, spontaneous fiancées, and the Queen's assignment close at hand. The only pleasantry was knowing she would soon take down the Guard Dog and soon become the Queen's new right hand. _Right hand._

The girl settled her hands on the table, peering down at her ring. She slid it off of her finger and placed it on the opposite hand, scrunching up her face at the sight. No, she didn't like the look of it. A wedding ring would never be suitable for her; no man would be suitable for her. She had only her wrath left to cling to. There was no time for other responsibilities—much less some well-dressed swine who only wanted her hand for the financial benefits. She assumed that was how this worked, anyway. She hadn't given any man her attention since the day her soul became forfeit to Claude. There was no need. Her purpose became clear—have her revenge satiated and then slip between a demon's teeth. What was Claude thinking by arranging a marriage for her? Was it simply to piss her off, or did he have an ulterior motive?

She had no time to decide before she heard footsteps drawing near. Quickly, she withdrew her hands from the table to take purchase in her lap, straightened her posture, and let her face settle into her usual smug expression. Claude appeared first, then a woman. Lelia looked the new addition over. She was obviously a maid, wearing a servant's dress and looking at the ground with humility. She had dark skin and smooth lavender hair, complete with a bandage over her left eye.

"And you are?" Lelia asked in a straightforward, yet gentle manner.

"Hannah Anafeloz, Miss. I am the maid of your betrothed," she said in a soft voice, stepping aside. A young boy stepped into Lelia's view, making her eyes narrow. The first thing she noticed was his striking blue eyes, followed by his pale blonde hair. He was dressed in a long, purple frock coat and a green vest. A large black bow adorned his neck, but nothing of his outfit caught her eye more than his choice of shorts.

Before she could question him, Hannah spoke up once more. "This is my master, Earl Alois Trancy." She bowed and then stepped away, pulling a chair out and offering the boy a seat. He obliged and sat, waving the woman away with one hand.

"You? Are you kidding?" Lelia laughed incredulously before she could refrain herself. Claude shot her a displeased glance. "I apologize, Earl Trancy, but aren't you a tad young?" Lelia's eyes were wide with disbelief, but the Earl only smirked.

"Please, call me Alois," he said, voice high-pitched and cheery. "I see you don't trust Claude's judgment." His eyes narrowed, but the proud smirk stained his expression. It made Lelia want to wipe it clean off.

"Claude's judgment is about as good as a blind rat's," she spat. "He must need a new pair of spectacles if he saw any way this arrangement was ever going to work."

Alois frowned.

"I think Claude did a splendid job. Claude! Why don't you fetch dinner for our guest?" Alois chimed and gestured to Lelia. Her brows furrowed as Claude crossed a hand over his chest and gave a shallow bow before departing.

"Guest?"

"Oh, how silly of me. Welcome to my manor! I've so been looking forward to meeting you. I trust you've found this place suitable in the few weeks you've stayed?" He propped his elbows up on the table and interlaced his fingers in what Lelia regarded as a taunt.

"Y-your manor? This is _my_ manor! The Diamandis Estate was passed on to me as the last living heir to the company!" she cried out, insulted that he would question her authority with such ridiculous fabrications. Alois propped his chin on his hands and leaned in closer, a smile playing on his lips.

"Did Claude tell you that? He is a demon. A demon has a demon's tongue, you know?" His voice was becoming smoother as it lowered, as if he had just shared an intimate secret. What on earth was this little blonde nuisance talking about? Before another word between the two was spoken, Lelia caught sight of the three plum-haired triplets whispering in the corner of the room. Agitated at their secrecy, she pointed an authoritative finger at them.

"You three. If you have something to say, say it. Out loud," she ordered. "I'm sick of this gossip game you play."

The triplets hesitated, looking at each other as if waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, the one in the middle did.

"This engagement is a right catastrophe," Thompson blurted.

"They'll probably end up killing each other," Canterbury added.

"I'd like to see that," Timber confessed.

Hannah, Alois, and Lelia all stared at them, dumbfounded.

"Hannah," the young Earl said sternly, "escort these idiots out of here." At once, Hannah walked quickly to the triplets, gathered them up, and pulled them out of the room. Alois shook his head in what appeared to be shame. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"I don't care, Trancy. I want to know what's going on. Why exactly are you here?" Lelia asked, not without contempt. Alois looked affronted.

"I am only accompanying my betrothed for a romantic dinner. Where's the sin in that?" the Earl questioned. It clearly sounded like sarcasm, blatant disrespect.

"Look, I'm sick of this charade. Tell me what's going on or I'll have Claude take care of you personally." A threatening light gleamed through her green eyes.

Alois laughed.

"Claude _does_ take care of me personally. Such is our agreement," Alois said. He popped his tongue out of his mouth and flexed the slimy muscle a few times, showing off the mark of Claude's contract. Lelia sat frozen in her place, eyes glued to the mark. It slowly retreated back into his mouth. _He's serious._

"Say, Lelia. . . I'm curious to see where your mark is. Show it to me," Alois demanded, his hands falling to his lap. She grit her teeth in response, ready to bite back at his uncouth behavior when Claude placed a dish on the table in front of her. She settled back, realizing she had been slowly edging closer to Alois in her rage. He did the same as Claude placed a similar dish on his portion of the table.

"Enough small talk, then. Dinner is served," Alois said, immediately grabbing his fork and picking away at his meal. Lelia glared at him before looking down at her plate.

"Claude. . . What is this?" She scrunched her nose as the smell of grease attacked her senses.

"Fish and chips," he answered curtly. Alois grinned up at the butler.

"Welcoming me back home with my favorite meal. That's my Claude!" Alois yipped before taking a bite from his fork. Lelia glared once more at his choice of words. **_His_** _Claude?_ She'd had enough.

She stood up abruptly, knocking her chair to the floor with a loud crash before grabbing her butler's necktie. A shocked expression contorted his usually composed features as she slammed him against the dining hall wall.

"Mistress?"

"No! Stop this. Tell me what's going on, Claude. Now!" she bellowed, her face twisted in anger. Claude avoided her gaze and sighed.

"I suppose this couldn't be avoided. Very well," he said. Lelia didn't back down, holding him in place by his tie. He responded by pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "On my master's orders, I sought out a suitable woman for him to wed."

"But my contract, demon. You belong to me now; how could you hide something like this? And why do you think you can make me agree to an engagement with. . . with _him?_ "

Claude closed his eyes and suddenly Lelia felt a hand gripping her arm and tugging her back.

"Let him go!" Alois shouted, wrenching Lelia's hand from Claude's tie. She rounded on the boy instead, anger evident on her face. Alois released his grip on her arm and backed up, hands raised to defend himself.

"You did this! This was all one big set-up! How could you, Claude?" She turned her back on the boy to face her butler. He looked at her with indifference.

"I was following my master's orders," he said.

"But I'm your master, too. You can't pick one over the other. You are bound to me just as much as you are to him!" Lelia shouted. She swore she saw Claude shake with mirth, but his face held no such emotion.

"I was not bound to you when my master gave me my orders."

"Now it seems we are all bound together!" Alois laughed. "Now, Claude, do make her sit down. She is an awfully rude dinner guest," he demanded. Claude made no move, and Alois took notice.

"What's this? I gave you an order." He cocked his head to the side as Claude remained still, curious as to why he would disobey.

"Highness, I cannot make such interferences with my Lady on your behalf," Claude stated, causing Alois' icy blue eyes to widen. "If I forced my master into an act she has no intention of doing at the behest of another, it would break our contract."

"Then what, you are going to ignore my orders?" Alois asked curiously.

"I have no choice," Claude replied. "I cannot accept orders from either of my masters if they interfere with one another."

"Are you joking?" Lelia sighed. "I did not agree to this. You never told me this was part of the deal."

"I was not ordered to," Claude breathed, his eyes raking over both of them, drinking in every heated emotion he could grasp from the two. Lelia growled to herself, but supposed this was better than what would have happened if the demon had left her in her state of abandon. She threw her hands up, finished with any further discussion.

"We're done here. Claude, we have business to attend to. Let's go," she commanded as she strode toward the door. Claude picked up her chair and pushed it into the table before following behind Lelia. He supposed Hannah and the triplets could clear the table.

Alois' eyes widened at his butler's willingness to leave him behind. "Wait!" the boy shouted. "I'm coming too!"

Lelia stopped dead in her tracks and shot Alois yet another glare over her shoulder. H _e will only slow us down and make us miss our mark._ "No," she grumbled before continuing on toward the foyer.

"Claude," Alois started, "make sure you don't leave my sight tonight."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Claude!" Lelia growled. "You are not to leave my side until we find the Dog."

"Of course, Mistress."

* * *

AN: Special thanks to Butler of Death for reviewing and helping me make my decision on where I wanted the story to go next. Hope you enjoy. I will be changing the description for the story as I adjust it.  
Edit: other reviewers if you have nothing nice to say shut the hell up. go back to your terribly written sebastian x neko ciel bullshit and sweaty leather daddy Claude kink. your poorly directed criticism is not needed here. thx. (':


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